


live without teeth, die without bite

by elliotfromseattle



Category: Blaseball (Video Game)
Genre: Bad end, Brainwashing, Dark Seattle, Dark Seattle Corporates, F/F, Mind Control, The Last Gig
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-26
Updated: 2021-01-26
Packaged: 2021-03-12 05:27:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,244
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29005281
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elliotfromseattle/pseuds/elliotfromseattle
Summary: allison abbott sells out
Relationships: Allison Abbott/Kichiro Guerra
Comments: 2
Kudos: 11





	live without teeth, die without bite

"So all I have to do is record myself reading this?"

She sat at the very end of the shiny conference table, her piercings and red flannel out of place with the crisp bright white that covered the entire room, the entire city. Faceless executives lined the rest of the table, sporting plain grey t-shirts and black pants (an attempt to be seen as more approachable, Allison Abbott couldn't help but guess). 

There was a tablet at her seat by the time she'd entered the room. On it, a script. A monologue. Allison had begun to skim it over the moment she sat down, ignoring the executives attempts to shake her hand, make small talk, offer her coffee or tea. 

(There were so many things she hated about the Corporation, how could she not after what they had done, after what they were about to use her to do, but it was the inauthenticity that got to her most. All the carefully calculated actions to create the most sterile form of connection with others possible. Everything done for the purpose of furthering a goal.)

The script was straightforward enough. She'd already known its purpose, even before she had agreed to do this meeting. And even if she hadn't, the title basically laid it all out for her: 

**INTERNAL MEMO: Corporation Brainwashing Strategy for Seattle Garages Hostile Takeover**

Allison couldn't even believe she was considering doing this. She'd always thought of herself as the last person on the team to sell out, let alone to betray the rest of the team. 

And yet, she knew it was her only choice. 

She glanced at a white, circular device sitting in the exact center of the table. It looked like an ordinary speaker, save for the thin, pink LED ring that wrapped its circumference. Just looking at it made rage bubble up in her stomach, how dare they, how dare they. 

“If I do this for you…” She growled, her voice low, “You swear you’ll take her out of there?”

“If you look at this document,” One of the executives spoke, its voice clear and monotone, “You will find our exact terms and conditions. Please sign at the bottom when you are complete. Or, if it is easier, I can have our Echlo here read it for you.”

As if on cue, the speaker rang out with a gentle ping, and Kichiro Guerra's voice filtered out of it, emotionless:

"Terms and conditions of employment for Allison Abbott. By signing this contract, you agree to these conditions. Subject to your compliance with these"

"Stop!" Allison banged a fist on the table, the top layer of glass cracking on impact. Kichiro's voice continued rattling off legal jargon, unaware of the sudden outburst, as Allison felt tears roll down her cheeks, the image of Kichiro's smiling face appearing in her mind every time she closed her eyes, how could they do this to her, how could they shove her inside of that… thing. 

"Echlo, stop." The executive said, and Kichiro's voice went away, and Allison's heart panged at its absence, the same way it had panged at Kichi's absence every single day. 

Allison scrolled through the document, legal jargon stretched across thousands of pages. She couldn't read it, her head was clouded over with fury, with sorrow. She couldn't stop thinking about Kichiro's voice. How it held none of her charisma. What had they done to her that it was missing her charming lilt? That it lacked the way laughter would bleed into her speech like sunlight through blinds?

She looked up from the tablet. 

"I'll ask one more time. If I do this for you, you swear you'll take her out of there?"

"The terms of conditions are in front of you. But, if it makes you _feel_ better," She could've sworn she heard the hint of a sneer at the mention of feelings, "I can assure you that you will be reunited with Kichiro Guerra."

She stared at the table of faceless executives. They sat, motionless. She got the sense that they could wait all day for her to make her decision. That the only impatient one here was her. 

"And the team won't know it was me?"

"In the end, they won't remember."

 _Don't trust them_ , a voice in her head whispered, _They're using you. You can't trust them._

Her eyes glanced back to the center of the table, where the Echlo sat. It couldn't be taunting her, she knew. It was just an object. It couldn't be staring at her, begging her for help. Begging her to let her out of this hell. 

Allison scrolled to the bottom of the document and signed her name with her index finger. 

The executives stood up in synchronization. 

"We look forward to a long partnership."

One reached a hand out for a handshake. Allison kept her arms crossed in front of her chest.

* * *

They offered to let her watch The Last Gig on a screen the size of a wall. 

She refused, of course. 

She'd sold them all out, but she couldn't bear to watch them try to fight it. 

She supposed that that made her a coward. She knew that she'd just have to live with that. 

They would fight for days. The Corporation would set up speakers outside of the stadium that would loop Allison's voice infinitely, and the team would play as loud as possible, scream their voices hoarse, do everything they could to not listen, to not let her words seep into their ears and wrap around their brains, gripping tightly to crush the team's independence in their grasp. 

Allison sighed and stared at the Echlo in the corner of the room. 

_You'll be out soon. I promise, Kichiro._

* * *

They invited her to a meeting. 

A celebration of a successful strategy. 

She sat at the end of the table, resting her feet atop the glass. One faceless executive stood at the front of the room. An Echlo rested at the exact center of the table. 

"I did what you asked." Allison spat out. "You owe me."

"Yes." The executive said, tone entirely absent from its voice. "We do. Echlo, would you play my favorite song?"

The Echlo pinged, and Kichiro spoke: 

"Now playing: Corporation Brainwashing Strategy for Seattle Garages Hostile Takeover."

Allison stood up, knocking her chair over, her eyes widening as she realized what this was. She stormed to the front of the room, grabbing the executive by the collar. 

"What the fuck kind of game are you trying to play? We had a deal."

"We did have a deal. It was all laid out in the Terms and Conditions. Welcome to the team, Allison Abbott."

The executive dissipated into smoke and electricity, leaving Allison alone with the Echlo, playing her own voice back to her. The doors were locked, and all she could do was scream.

* * *

Allison Abbott sat in a white room, wearing a plain brown t-shirt, webcam pointed at her as she absentmindedly played a video game. She watched the viewers number go up, watched it keep going up, the only thing that mattered was that more and more people watched. 

Her Echlo pinged, and a familiar, monotone voice spoke: 

"Today's stream sponsored by Echlo."

Allison nodded. Every time the Echlo spoke, she couldn't help but enjoy its voice. There was something so familiar and pleasing about it. She internally thanked the Corporation for creating such a useful piece of technology.

**Author's Note:**

> read [this fic](https://archiveofourown.org/works/29002200) and instantly knew what i had to write
> 
> thank u to the seattle garages for letting me join their dark seattle jam i had a blast and this is just one of many ideas i got out of it oops
> 
> title from fuckmylife666 by against me


End file.
